


Young Gregor's Tragic Adventure

by p_o_u_n_c_e_r



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Dr Seuss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-31 03:13:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10890498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_o_u_n_c_e_r/pseuds/p_o_u_n_c_e_r
Summary: What if Dr. Seuss had written the novel, Barrayar?





	Young Gregor's Tragic Adventure

**ONE**

The sunshine was bright.  
On that crisp autumn day.  
But we did not go outside  
to walk or to play.

Mother said, "We should hope  
there is nothing to fear,  
but when trouble is brewing,  
it is best to stay here."

So we sat in her chambers.  
We sat there, we two.  
And I said, "How I wish  
we had something to do."

Soldiers roamed in the courtyard,  
and ran through the halls,  
but we sat in our rooms  
and did nothing at all.

And all we could do was  
to sit.  
       Sit,  
          sit,  
             sit.  
And we did not like it,  
not one little bit.

And then something went **BUMP**!  
How that bump made us jump.  
We looked, and we saw him  
crash in through our door,  
We saw Captain Negri,  
but like never before.

His uniform pant leg  
was ragged with rips  
and bloodied with clots  
that dripped from cloth strips.  
His jacket was burned  
and his collar undone  
and instead of a comm-link  
his hand held a gun.

He **never** brought weapons  
into our rooms that way.  
"Too much chance of _accidents_ ",  
Negri would say.

But that day he ran in  
his face sweating and red  
"It's worse than we thought.  
Pattern Two," Negri said.

Then Mother and I both  
knew just what to do.  
I thought we'd get out  
with Escape Pattern Two.

So in mother's bedroom  
We tapped on the wall  
And opened the secret door  
into a dark hall.

Then down,  
           down,  
             down  
                DOWN  
A dark stone set of stairs  
Then UP AGAIN  
                       UP  
through a tube of cold air.

The stairs were quite old  
and the lift tube quite new  
and both were quite secret:  
for Escape Pattern Two.

I'd practiced with Mother  
and with my friend Drou.  
It was our special secret  
that no one else knew.

But the whole way was dark.  
With no lights. Or just one.  
Negri's _armed_ indicator  
glowed green on his gun.

So I followed the gun  
with our practice in mind.  
I followed the Captain.  
Mother followed behind.  
  
In practice, we'd bypass  
each floor, room, and hall  
and no one would notice.  
No one saw us at all.

But that day was real.  
When we got to the top  
of the lift tube and felt  
the floor bump to a stop.  
A lamp hung high above.  
It seemed very bright.  
What I saw was so scary  
That I squeezed my eyes tight.

We fell from the chamber  
to our lightflyer bay.  
There were guards in the room.  
They all faced the wrong way.

They had not known how  
we would get to the flyer.  
But some guns that they held  
would throw plasma fire.

They had stunners and needlers.  
And long plasma arcs  
And guns I could not  
recognize in the dark.

I knew I should watch  
I did not want to see.  
But I knew they were waiting  
For Mother and me.

Negri rolled and shot first.  
The bay turned pitch black.  
He shot out the lamp then  
shot guards in the back.

But the other guards turned  
and they started to fight  
and the fires from plasma arcs  
gave both sides light.

And I watched and I heard  
I smelled blood sweat and smoke.  
We ran from the lift  
And I started to choke.

Fire flickered and flared  
and it smoked and it fumed  
and the plasma arcs crackled  
and something else BOOMED.

Negri picked me up  
then we rolled through a fire  
and he yelled as we rolled  
to the hatch of the flyer.

Where the guards wouldn't follow.  
They would not dare the flames.  
But my mother ran through them  
and called out my name.

Then Mother grabbed me.  
She grabbed hold of my leg.  
She shouted at Negri.  
She started to beg.  
She begged, "No, don't take him.  
Please don't take him. Please."  
She held onto my leg  
and she fell to her knees.  
Then more guards grabbed her.  
Her hands started to slip.  
They slipped down my leg  
till she tightened her grip.  
She screamed at the soldiers  
and gripped on my shoe.  
She screamed, "Please don't take him!  
Or please, take me too."

Then they hit her. And pulled her.  
And they pulled and they hit.  
But her grip didn't loosen  
not one little bit.  
She gripped tight with both hands  
and she wouldn't let go.  
And she still kept on screaming.

"NO!  
       NO!  
              NO!  
                     NO!"

But that morning, when I  
had put on my shoes,  
I had not got them tight.  
I had fastened them loose.  
So the shoe on my foot,  
where my Mother held on,  
was there for a moment,  
but the next, it was gone.

It came off in her hand  
when she pulled on the shoe.  
It was gone. Then, my Mother  
was pulled away, too.

And Negri, clothes smoking,  
got us into the flyer.  
exploded the baydoors  
and took us up higher.

We rose from the flames  
and the smoke and the fight  
and away from my mother  
in a shuddering flight.

The guards down below  
shot at us some more.  
They switched from just stunners.  
Plasma shots scorched the door.

Holes burned through glide panels  
and a crack opened wide  
in the viewport where Negri sat.  
Plasma scorched him, inside.

A siren went off  
in the control console suite  
as Negri climbed into  
the left pilot's seat.  
He fought with the pedals  
and levers and sticks  
but the flyer was damaged.  
It was quite hard to fix.

I was scared for my Mother  
and of crashing and falls  
and I started to cry  
I was not brave at all.

Then Negri said, "Shut up!  
Shut your damn mouth," he swore.  
And he said some more words  
I had not heard before.  
I thought they were bad words.  
 **Very** bad words. The worst.  
And he grumbled them low.  
Then he shouted and cursed.

And Negri kept talking  
but not talking to me  
He was talking to somebody  
that I couldn't see.

But not on a com-console.  
He said "Ezar" and "Sire"  
He was telling my Grad'da  
About Mother, the fire,  
and how he had tried to  
get us all free  
but had made the decision  
to just rescue me.

My Gran'da was dead.  
Which I thought Negri knew.  
Negri cried with that grief  
and the pain of burns, too.

But he steered through his tears  
and we wobbled and flew  
and I tried to keep still  
but I'm sure I cried, too.

Then we flew a long time  
and without any stops  
We flew near the ground  
and **very**  near the treetops.

  
Our lightflyer wobbled.  
And it bobbled, too.  
It wobbled and bobbled  
and jerked as it flew.  
We wobbled near treetops,  
and we jerked over hills.  
And I thought about crashes  
and smashes and spills.  
I curled up in my seat  
and I tried to keep still.

  
I was scared from the fight.  
I was scared of the flight.  
I was scared that my mother would not be all right.  
I was sorry I'd not got my shoe fastened tight.  
I squeezed eyes on my tears.  
And I tried to keep still.

 


End file.
